I am like a floating cloud of this
Vast open seemingly baron sky.
Hidden in my bosom millions of tiny vapors
Forless, colorless, faceless,
Waiting for a chance to get a face, a color, and a form
In their expression I find a bit of my identity.
But very often I float around
Carrying that mysterious world
Every now and then a flash of light escapes from it
Like a meteor bursting on a night sky
Illuminating my whole being.
Soon every thing becomes quiet again
Like nothing has happened.
Mystics call it the world of silence
The world beyond Oum, the fourth stage
There all is tranquil all is calm.
The substratum of life
That infinite space within
It holds me, cuddles me, guides me through
Always pulling me with some magical energy
Yet always beyond my reach.

Savita Tyagi